


In on the Joke

by CatsDog



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Comedy, Dirty Jokes, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time Blow Jobs, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Jokes, Oral Sex, Romance, Sex, Sexual Content, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 06:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3371441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatsDog/pseuds/CatsDog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elanna agrees to follow Bull and Varric on a venture ice fishing.  When the two begin joking, Elanna realizes she is not quite in on the jokes that Bull has to tell and must fish out the answer. </p><p>A shameless dive into character based smut by request.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In on the Joke

Elanna knew that her interpretations of rules and instructions were an irritant to those that issued them. Letter of the law applied to her far more often than spirit and she was careful to slither ever so carefully in such a way that she could and often times would earn ire, but she could never be directly admonished for not heeding to one’s commands.

Her reading lessons had moved far quicker than she had anticipated and she was already able to switch between the Elven and Common tongues with relative ease. There were still many words that she was forced to sound out, occasionally looking up at her tutor for encouragement as she tried to mouth them, but the pace at which the ability came to her surprise Elanna even more than it did her peers.

By the tutor’s request Elanna carried her reading book with her whenever she was not attending to official matters for the Inquisition. “You are learning quickly, but to achieve a mastery the written word must become your life,” he had explained in his thick Antivan accent, tongue rolling as he waved a hand through the air. “These books must become your companions. Your life. Your lovers. They must be with you wherever you go.”

And so they had. Her book rested snugly beneath her folded arms on the tavern table, right next to her mug. The words on the pages were her companions, even if they opted not to drink or partake in conversation, and Ser Bolivio would have no argument on the matter.

Despite the approachable air she tried to present in the Herald’s Rest tavern the masses always gave her a wide berth. It was respect, she was told, the common soldier doing their due diligence not to break rank and insult Her Worship by approaching the Herald of Andraste with whatever vulgar intentions befitted them. On more than one occasion she had approached the soldiers and labroers, mugs in hands, even sometimes succeeding in striking conversation with them. They always walked away in good spirits, each with a tale to tell about the time they had shared an ale with the chosen of Andraste, yet they never approached her.

It was usually not until Bull had pulled himself away from his pursuits that she could find anything resembling fun in the tavern. Their paths only seemed to cross when her bones ached or when she was seeing him on some official business, otherwise he was chasing the skirts of the serving girls or filling out reports destined for Par Vollen. Thinking on that matter she struggled to imagine which was worse.

For a time she used to sing along with the tavern minstrel as best she could, occasionally mumbling under her breath as she forgot many of the lyrics, but it was another activity she carried out alone. Before long the entire thing made her feel foolish and the spirit of fun and games was lost, so she would instead bury herself in her mug.

Elanna did not want to turn to her book, which she carried with her only as an excuse and a defense should Ser Bolivio wander into the Haven’s Rest, but boredom at being alone began to set in and so she dared to pull back the cover and glance at the words inside. Most of it was rudimentary sentences, with detailed explanations beneath them. She always found it peculiar that books used words to teach people who could not read how words should be used.

When she was at last ready to give up and simply saunter back to her room and perhaps even study she heard creaks on the stairs to the tavern’s upper level, followed by a hearty laugh and a round of cheers.

“Please, please,” she heard Bull say before she looked up from her book and saw him. “Keep it down, let her sleep.”

Elanna rolled her eyes and wore a silly grin as she watched the behemoth take his last and final step, thumbs tucked into his belt and a smirk splayed across his face. She did not even want to know the details of his latest triumph.

When he reached the ground level he spotted Elanna and put up his hands, the smirk replaced by a pleasant and warm smile.

“‘Lanna!” he called out, clearing the distance between them in three long strides. “What is this?” His one good eye fell to the book she was examining, his gesture now mottled with confusion. “Are you reading?”

“Yes?” Elanna chirped back, her tone playfully serious.

“In a tavern.”

“Best place to read.”

“No ‘Lanna,” Bull slid the chair across from her out and sat in it, then swiped the book out from under her in a motion so fast it would have up ended the table without his great skill and precision. “We do not read in taverns. This is the greatest crime among my people.”

“Is it?” Elanna crossed her arms over her chest and put on a mocking frown. “And yet I don’t see many of your people.”

“The Ben-Hassrath are masters of infiltration and subterfuge. They’re everywhere.” He was not looking at her, instead his huge fingers were turning the pages of the book while his eye darted across the text. “This is worse than I thought.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah you’re trying to learn in here. That’s bad news, symptoms of a very serious condition.”

“And whatever do I do now, Doctor The Iron Bull?” She lowered her voice as she spoke in false gravitas, trying not to giggle all the while.

“Well,” Bull slammed the book shut, causing the dust on the pages to fly into the air in front of him. “It’s still in the early stages so I think two pints should be enough to remedy it. If we want to be safe though, we should do three.”

“We?” Elanna was smirking now.

Bull nodded. “It’s terribly contagious.” He looked up to the barkeep and raised two fingers. “Cabot. Five pints. Something strong.”

Cabot growled back, Elanna did not have to look at him to see the fiery snarl that was already peeling back his Dwarven features.

“Walk your lazy ass over here and get them yourself, damn lazy Qunari.”

“Hey!” Bull shot back, tightening his hand into a fist. “I’m not lazy. It’s medicinal.”

Cabot kept the Herald’s Rest well stocked and operating at peak efficiency even in spite of the troubles that came with trying to manage a tavern perched high in the Frostback Mountains, three day’s ride from the nearest town. But for all his acumen the Dwarf seemed as though his chosen profession was some sort of punishment, like a penitence for some family crime he could not escape. The soldiers tolerated him as there was no other hole with which to disappear and drink and he was always certain to remind them of that fact.

In spite of his grumbling he arrived in short order, stacking all five of the pints together so they each supported their own weight in a single, long row. With a bitter growl all the while he dropped them down on the table, expecting and asking for nothing in payment, knowing that he need only offer the bill to Josephine to see everything brought even.

“Do you need anything else while you have me away from the bar?” Cabot demanded, crossing his arms.

“You know I really miss your positive attitude when I’m out on Inquisition business, Cabot.”

“And I miss all my liquor when you’re not.”

With no other words to share between the two he turned his back on them and returned to his bar.

Elanna was trying not to laugh all the while. Bull took one glance down at the mugs, then slid three his own way and two back toward her.

“I thought you said I’d need three,” she complained.

Bull shrugged. “Eh, I’m bigger than you. So it’s like I’m drinking two. Now less talking, more medicine.”

In unison the two lifted their first mug. Following Bull’s lead Elanna did not stop until hers was empty in several long, painful gulps. The Qunari had swallowed his as easily as though he were taking a breath and when she lowered her cup, nearly tipping it over with the light headed wash that fell over her, he found his one good eye beaming down at her.

“And second dose.” Elanna had only just caught her breath when he raised the second mug and swallowed it just as quickly as he had the first. The young woman’s lungs began to burn and her throat felt as though it was going to lock tight against the flaming liquid, but she at last managed to force the last drop down and slammed the pint onto the table top with a triumphant howl.

Bull laughed and pounded the table with his hand. “And last one for me.” She watched as his chest heaved in long, powerful breaths while he swallowed the final pint, gawking at the way it was as natural to him as walking or breathing. When he finished he fell back in his chair, relaxing in an instant and folding his hands in his lap.

“There, that’s much better. You’re lucky I caught you when I did.”

Elanna hiccuped, then covered her mouth. “Apparently. Thank you.”

“So hey, ‘Lanna,” Bull said, “time’s right about now, so Varric and I are going ice fishing. You wanna’ come?”

“Ice fishing?” Elanna furrowed her brow, realizing that her gestures and expressions were becoming exaggerated. She was familiar with fishing in its barest form and had watched the hunters tend to the nets and rods when their clan’s path had taken them by rivers and lakes, but the Free Marches were far to the north and well away from the deep freezes of Ferelden and the Frostbacks. “You’re fishing for ice?”

“Uh, no, not quite. We’re going to cut a hole in the ice and pull out the fish.”

“Aren’t they frozen?”

Bull narrowed his eye. “Fish don’t freeze, ‘Lanna.”

She hiccuped again. “Oh.” She suddenly wanted to see this, realizing just how little she knew about the frozen climate that had become her home. “Yes, I’ll come then.”

“Good. Cabot!”

The Dwarf sighed, the sound audible even over the tavern’s chatter. “What?”

“I just wanted to say I love you big guy, keep doing what you’re doing.” Bull rose to his feet and snatched up Elanna’s book as she was reaching for it, holding it high over her head so that she could not reach it. “And this stays here.”

Thoughts of Ser Bolivio spying her on the ice, laughing and half drunk without the book anywhere in sight made her laugh at the excuses she would come up with to explain it. It was Inquisition business, she decided, far too important to trivialize with learning more Common letters. She was, afterall, fishing, she was keeping food fresh for the soldiers and the laborers.

“Fair enough,” Elanna agreed and Bull let out an approving yip before tossing the book back on the table. 

He led her to the edge of the castle, just beyond the ramparts and near the final gate that blocked the narrow bridge that served as Skyhold’s only entrance. In a crisis the gates could be sealed, the bridge demolished, and any attackers would need to find a way to fly over the valley below. Perched on a rock waiting for them was Varric, whistling to himself as he flipped through the pages of a book of his own.

The Dwarf did not look up as the two approached and Bull heaved his shoulders in a dramatic sigh.

“Yeesh, another book,” he whined. “What is it with you people?”

“Have to stay sharp, Tiny,” Varric mused. “We can’t all rely on a set of ram horns.”

“Well I’ll just chalk that up as reason eight thousand and nine for why you need the Qun.”

“I think I’ll be fine with my books.” Varric climbed down off the rock and glanced at Elanna. “So, kid, you’re coming with us?”

“Apparently so,” Elanna answered.

“Ever been ice fishing before?”

“I’ve never been fishing fishing before.”

Varric shrugged. “It’s no big deal. Just don’t fall into the hole and Tiny and I will do the rest.”

They walked the well worn path down the mountain until it jutted off into a goat trail along its summit. This deep into winter the ravines, valleys, and naturally flowing water of Skyhold protected the residents from the harshest of the cold, but the slight dip in temperature was enough to rob all of the trees of their tender blossoms, leaving them naked and bare. The goats had moved on in pursuit of something easier to eat and the flat powder on the ground indicated that no one had come here before them.

“So what brings you two fishing?” Elanna asked as they approached the frozen lake that was their destination.

“Male bonding, I suppose,” Varric joked. “I don’t know I just like fishing and Tiny likes eating. I never got much of a chance to do it in Kirkwall. The water was too...sludgy.”

Waiting for them at the lake was a crate and several rods the two had set up earlier, when they had first spied the fishing spot. The frozen water was tucked up against a sheer wall of ice and rock, with several outcroppings of stone that could serve as seats. Bull squatted in front of the crate, threw it open and pulled out a pick axe.

Varric snatched it from his hand. “The ice is solid but it’d still be a gamble supporting your ass.”

“I wouldn’t freeze. There’s no water cold enough,” Bull retorted with a scoff.

“Probably not, but I’d have to fish you out and I’m not quite as resilient.” 

Varric trekked out onto the ice, watching beneath his steps for some clue in the frozen sheet for where he wanted to strike true. When he seemed satisfied at last he knelt down and struck the lake with the pick axe, carving out a hole only slightly larger than Elanna’s head.

When he was finished he walked carefully back to the crate, occasionally measuring the strength of the ice with squats and small jumps.

“You should be fine up to here, Bull,” he told the Qunari. “And Kid you’re so small you could probably walk on frozen dew, so I’m not terribly concerned about you.” They each grabbed a rod and walked single file out to the hole, Bull especially careful to not try the strength of the ice. Thinking on his remark, Varric sat down, jammed some bait onto his hook and said, “But that being said don’t push your luck. I don’t want to have to explain to the Seeker why our Inquisitor is an ice cube.”

“Mages,” Bull snorted as he applied his own bait. “Ambushed us out while we were hunting. Zapped her with a frost spell. I killed eight of them while you ran back to get help.”

“That’s good,” Varric laughed. He seemed satisfied with his bait and dipped the tip of his line into the hole in the ice. “A little overly valiant of you, but I like it. It beats losing her on a silly ice fishing trip.”

The strong ale from the tavern was still affecting Elanna as she tried to snag the bait onto her own hook. She closed an eye and stuck out her tongue as she took a handful of the dried out goat spleen and tried in a single motion to thrust it toward the hook. She missed several times and pricked her fingers a handful more before she finally got it, just shy of asking Bull for help.

All three dropped their hooks into the small hole, careful to keep their distance so they did not tangle their lines.

Elanna’s newness to fishing was evident by the way every current and rush of wind caused her to yank back on her pole, swearing that some fish was testing the bait.

Varric sighed and Bull laughed.

“Even if that was a fish,” Bull explained, “they’re little sissies. They’re going to take a few bites before they’re sure it’s safe. You have to let them ease it in, grease it up, get a little confidence. You can’t just expecting them to take the whole thing on your word.”

The double meaning and lewd language was not lost on Elanna who blew out a snort. “You’d know a thing or two about that.”

“Yes he would, apparently,” Varric added.

Bull beamed. “Yes I would.” He rocked his pole up and down several times as though trying to entice the fish beneath the surface, adding a hint of animation to his bait. “You guys remember that time we were in that Ferelden village?”

“Redcliffe?” Varric asked, feigning boredom.

“No no, shit what was it called. Hell I don’t know, it was closer to Denerim. Shit what was it called? Anyway it doesn’t matter. Had that wind mill?”

“I’m pretty sure that was Redcliffe, Tiny.”

“I know Redcliffe, Varric. This one was north.”

“Alright it wasn’t Redcliffe. But a lot of places have windmills, so you’ve essentially narrowed it down to anywhere people eat food.”

“Anyway we were at that village, tossed back a few drinks. I think ‘Lanna was meeting with some chanter who wanted to know if she was a demon or not...so naturally she brought me. Heh, that’s still funny when I think about it. Anyway there was this dairy girl, sweetest thing I ever saw.”

Varric scoffed. “They’re all the sweetest thing you ever saw, Bull.”

“Well in the moment, yeah. But I remember this one, so she was obviously the sweetest thing.”

“Okay, point taken, go on.”

“So I was feeling really conflicted about it. She had this little squeaky voice and these big bright doe eyes. Man, she was cute. But soon as the festival ended she was a totally different person.”

“Oh festival,” Varric called out, leaning back and slapping his thigh. “Yeah, Wolfscreek.”

Bull brightened up. “Yeah! Wolfscreek that was the place!”

“They threw a helluva party.”

Elanna remembered that night. Most of the populace of Ferelden clung tightly to their homes, worried that newcomers were mages, Templars, or worse, abandoning their leisures and fun and hoping to ride out the storm that had seemed to be blowing across the entire world. Wolfscreek was different. Wolfscreek had refused to acknowledge the Breach or the war or the rumors of Venatori trying to seize control of Denerim and stubbornly continued with their Mummer’s Festival. Like Orlesians they all came out in masks made of paper that ended up strewn about the ground by the end of the night or tossed into the bonfire in the center of the village.

The celebration had reminded her of the celebrations with her clan, if more drunken and invoking the name of the Maker more often.

“Yeah,” Bull laughed, “they sure did. So I don’t know what it was about that damn party but this girl just lost it. Hands all over me, asking me if my horns were the only thing that were big. I mean hell I didn’t even say anything, she just decided it was going to happen.”

“So you added a poor milk maid as a notch to your belt,” Elanna teased, feigning indignation.

“Eh,” Bull shrugged. “We went into this barn and started taking off our clothes. Then she just stops and says in that little kitten voice again, ‘Please Mister Qunari, I’m still a virgin so you can’t take me there.’”

Varric laughed and shook his head, sending the tip of his pole jingling and the string bouncing against Elanna’s.

“It’s weird how many holes the Maker apparently doesn’t have a problem with,” he said.

Bull was laughing too hard to speak clearly. “Yeah,” he guffawed, “I mean, yeah, really, what is it about that? Is that in the Chant or something? ‘And lo Andraste said to Shartan, you see we can’t do it normally, but the Maker’s alright with it in my ass’?”

Elanna nearly toppled over when she heard that and burst into a loud fit of laughter that was joined by Varric.

“Anyway, so this little thing, probably the size of Elanna, just drops to her knees and gives me head instead. Like a hungry animal. Like uh, you remember those crazed wolves in the Hinterlands?”

Varric nodded. “Yeah.”

“She went like that.”

“It’s always the innocent ones.”

Elanna frowned, blinking several times. “Head?” she repeated, drawing both sets of eyes onto her. “She gave you her head?”

“Uh no, ‘Lanna. Head. She gave me head. You know? Fellatio? She blew me. She gave me a blowjob.”

Elanna continued to blink. “What’s that?” Varric hissed, caught somewhere between a gasp and laughter, while the color drained from Bull’s face. “She blew on you?”

“Oh...jeez,” Bull scratched the back of his head with his free hand, holding the pole all the while. “You don’t know what a blowjob is?”

Elanna shook her head. “No?”

“Oh man. Uh,” he gestured toward the Dwarf, “you know, ask Varric.”

Elanna glanced at him expectantly.

“Don’t look at me kid, this one’s way above my paygrade,” he said defensively.

“Oh come on, Varric,” Bull whined, “like you’ve never written about a blowjob in one of your books before.”

“Well if you really want to know the answer to that question it’ll cost you thirty pieces of silver at your local book merchant.”

All three of them went quiet while Bull flushed and his skin turned a various array of colors. “Jeez,” he repeated, his shoulders slumping. “You know that’s just one of those things if you don’t know I can’t be the one to tell you. That’s like, ‘Hey kid remember your cat? I rode over him on my way home,’ kind of stuff. You don’t do that you just buy the kid a new kitten”

Elanna frowned again, this time the joke was wasted on her and she was beginning to grow irritated.

“Really, you two?” she demanded.

Varric laughed. “I tell you what, if you really want to know, go ask the Seeker.”

“Hey now!” Bull called out. “Noooo no no no. Let’s not bring Cass into this.” Varric was struggling to keep his composure, air filling his cheeks as he tried not to laugh. “You think she’s ever given a blowjob?” Both of them suddenly broke out into laughter so loud there was no doubt that it echoed off the mountain tops and was heard by the soldiers camped down below. When Bull had regained himself he looked sheepishly at Elanna. “Sorry ‘Lanna,” he said, clearing his throat. “No really we should change the subject.”

Elanna didn’t want to change the subject. She gripped the fishing pole tightly in her hands and quietly fumed.

 

****

When the book had been retrieved from the tavern that night Elanna was surprised to find that only a handful of pages were missing and the grease stains could best be described as modest. She plotted out a story to tell Ser Bolivio that someone had snatched it, feeling guilty before even telling the tale knowing that Cole would implicitly receive the blame. Although most of Skyhold still remained ignorant to his comings and goings the strange ghost that placed rotting fruit and stole daggers was still on the lips of everyone in the keep.

The next day she checked with the Council to insure that there were no pressing matters that required her attention. To her delight the only thing to consume her time was a long series of reports and Cullen’s tedious triumphs about the fighting readiness of the troops. Leliana was always the most tacit and to the point with her reports, insuring the Inquisitor simply that “everything that needs to be taken care of is being taken care of,” knowing that Elanna preferred a healthy distance from the ugliness of the spymaster’s trade.

She had never anticipated when she became Inquisitor that so much of the role would involve simply waiting. From where they stood they knew what the Venatori’s plans were and thanks to Leliana in some cases the Inquisition knew better than they did. But any action depended on a million small variables before they could move forth. Letters must be delivered here, soldiers must be sent to there, arrangements and travel plans must be made for this. That meant that as often as Elanna was out in the field pursuing the followers of the Elder One she was stuck inside Skyhold, tending for herself.

The conversation with Bull and Varric remained fresh in her mind and she flashed a hot anger at the thought of it. There was laughing and sharing of something they both seemed to enjoy, but she had learned quickly when dealing with Shems that if you don’t understand the joke you are the joke, and their unwillingness to let her in on it only made her angrier.

Ser Bolivio had called on her for more lessons but Elanna ushered him away, insisting that her duties had left her exhausted and she needed a day to herself. He had protested at first but quickly recoiled when he sensed her irritation, misunderstanding and assuming that it was directed at him. The Inquisition was paying him well for his expertise, well above market rate for his tutelage, and he would not risk that comfortable living by tempting one of her moods. When he retreated Elanna quietly wondered if her Dalish heritage had anything to do with how easily he backed down.

Part of her simply did not want to deal with explaining the miserable condition of her book. It would be the third one she had gone through since he had arrived at Skyhold and even in spite of his professionalism his patience was razor thin when it came to such things. She knew there was no excuse for her carelessness and it was not an argument she wanted to have.

In a sort of quiet apology he would never hear, Elanna decided to carry on her studies with Dorian. She did not even need to tell him her intentions, he knew precisely how to budget his day the moment he saw her walking slowly around the balcony of the library, the book hanging loosely below her waist and swinging side to side like a pendulum.

“Is it that time again already?” he mused, his tone melodramatic and exaggerated.

His tutelage was not as proficient as Ser Bolivio’s, due in part to his lack of training in understanding the gaps in Elanna’s logic from a lifetime of speaking Dalish. Dorian’s own experience with the language was cursory and mathematical, mostly for spellwork, slinging and reciting the words without understanding or context. She enjoyed his teachings more, though, as he was willing to impart her with Tevinter’s various vulgarities.

The scholars of Skyhold were aghast when they saw their Inquisitor walking the halls, repeating the word merda at every conceivable opportunity. Cassandra had even chastised Dorian for filling her head with vulgarities, but he had brushed her off with a scoff. “Oh, because the Qunari is teaching her nothing but etiquette and prose, I assume.”

Cassandra had growled and looked sidelong as though she expected to see Bull watching sheepishly. “The Qunari is another matter,” she had hissed at him.

 

When the two studied she sat on the floor, cross legged with the book resting in her lap. Dorian was usually seated in a chair, but sometimes he would join her with his back against one of the book shelves, nose in his own book until they both fell on a lesson to discuss. In essence, most of her time was spent simply practicing and using him as a soundboard when she struggled with a word.

Elanna could not focus on the words that day. Instead she kept thinking back on the conversation on the lake and the way she felt like an outsider even though she had been invited to go ice fishing.

The two sat in silence for a long time as she ran over the possibilities of what Bull could have meant by that word. Her face contorted several times as she tried to imagine what he was talking about followed by frustration at the way she had been dismissed like a child.

Finally at the end of her patience, Elanna looked up from her book, though Dorian was still reading deeply invested into his.

“Dorian?” she called out to him.

“Yes, my dearest?” he answered without looking up.

“What’s a blowjob?”

That got his attention, causing him to snap his gaze upward, eyes widened. His heart was beating so loud Elanna could nearly feel it from across the way. His eyes darted left, then right, as though he were worried someone were approaching.

“Could you say that a little louder, Elanna?” he chastised in a hushed tone, his eyes firmly back on her. “I don’t think the chanters heard you in the garden.”

“What?” Elanna would normally have found the man’s flustering amusing, but with the answer so tantalizingly close she was only more frustrated.

“Are you truly asking me that?”

Elanna nodded.

Dorian rose to his feet, rolled his eyes, then snatched her by the arm. “By the Maker,” he hissed and dragged her out onto one of the balconies, closing the glass window behind them to keep their conversation quiet. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Bull and Varric were talking about some milk maid giving him her head,” Elanna explained, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting. “I asked what that meant and they said it was a blowjob then wouldn’t tell me anything else.”

“And for good reason, too!” Dorian cried out. “It’s not one of those things you go blabbing about to Her Worship or anyone else in good standing for that matter.”

Elanna narrowed her eyes into dangerous slits, causing Dorian to sigh in defeat. He knew better than to try to keep it from her any longer, it would be a useless, wasted fight.

“So you really don’t know?” he asked, a hint of plea to his voice. Elanna shook her head. “It’s one of those things lovers do.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Elanna fumed. “But what is it?”

Dorian looked up to the sky as though looking for help. When none arrived he looked back down, took in a deep breath, and readied himself for the plunge.

“Alright,” he started. “You’re familiar with the mentula then?”

“The what?”

“The penis, Elanna.”

“Oh,” she snorted. “Yeah, of course.”

“How do you Dalish have sex?”

Elanna thought about that for a moment. When she was with her clan privacy was a concern that hardly occured to any of them. They lived together, ate together, bathed together, broke water together, and only for the sake of preventing jealousy or to keep from disturbing others did they make the slightest effort to hide their carnal moments. Elanna had seen more than her fair share of couples giving in to their passion, though it was usually a passing glance. Sometimes curiosity got the better of her and she would try to steal a glance, but its open nature made it something almost familiar.

She had also had her time with Solas. Their intimate moments had been delightful, in some ways eye opening and life changing, but none of it seemed far outside the norm from what she had witnessed with her clan.

Therefore she shrugged and raised a hand, forming an O with her index finger and thumb, then stuck her other index finger into it, back and forth.

Dorian gasped and slapped at her hand. “Good heavens,” he said. “That’s it then?”

“Is there more to it?” she queried.

Dorian put his hands on his hips. “Oh my sweet thing,” he said with a shake of his head. “This is only the beginning, really. Well you want to know what a blowjob is? At its absolute simplest, it’s putting a penis in your mouth.”

Elanna wretched, her face scrunching up as though she had just tasted a sour and bitter food. “You put what in your mouth?”

“The cock, you put it in your mouth,” Dorian reiterated for emphasis. “I mean you don’t just put it in your mouth, there’s more to it. You have a tongue, after all, and there should be some movements. But at its core, the heart of the matter is putting it in your mouth.”

“People do that?”

Now Dorian scoffed at her. “Some people have achieved a mastery at it, truth be told on the matter.”

“It sounds…” caught in her surprise Elanna found herself struggling for words, “awful.”

Dorian looked indignant, shuffling his lips and fidgeting his mustache under his nose.

“We have an old saying in Tevinter. Don’t judge the food before it goes into your mouth. I think that applies on a certain level here.”

The tension and the dissatisfaction suddenly gone Elanna found herself giggling, which seemed to relax Dorian. He leaned back, crossing his arms.

“So do you do it?” she quipped.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Do you ‘put mentulas in your mouth’ Dorian?” She grinned ear to ear as Dorian flushed.

“That’s rather discourteous of you. Do I ask what you and Solas get up to?”

Elanna shrugged. “Do you want to know?”

“Certainly not. There’s a line in the sand, Elanna, and you’re very well right up to it.”

“Is giving your head that bad?”

Dorian laughed. “It’s just giving head, Elanna.”

“What’s it taste like?”

Dorian sighed now. “It’s not that bad, really. You wouldn’t expect it or the texture. I mean it’s not for everyone, but if you go into it with an open mind you’re less likely to be disappointed by it.”

Elanna giggled and pawed at him. “You’ve given a blowjob!”

“By the Maker!” Dorian pushed her toward the window. “Get back in there, you have reading to do.”

 

****

With her newfound knowledge from Dorian the entire story that Bull told made a remarkable amount of sense. If he had been more open about the information Elanna might have even found it funny, but now the entire ordeal had been blemished and all she could wonder was how these active, confident men seemed to shrink away when posed with having to explain such a simple concept.

When she had finished her studying session with Dorian she had retreated back to her room, tossing her book aside and staring at herself in the looking glass she had been provided. She tried to imagine Solas like that as she stared at herself, sitting on her knees and taking him in. Although Elanna could not decide precisely how that made her feel the outburst she had in repulsion made the entire thing seem appealing in its own taboo kind of way.

It seemed strange to her that she had never heard of it on her travels nor had she spied any of the lovers in her clan performing such acts. Had her people simply not thought of it? And was there an equivalent that Solas could do to her? 

The whole conversation opened a world of possibilities to her and she began to wonder what she had been missing. The times she had been intimate with Solas were entirely pleasant and she could have gone the rest of her life enjoying only those trysts and nights of passion.

Staring at herself now though, imagining touching and licking him made her skin flush red hot and desire began to throb between her legs. Although she had only just now learned what this blowjob was her curiosity began to fuel the lust in her.

She stood for several moments staring, imagining, wondering. Somewhere on her tongue and the top of her mouth she could feel a small press as though he was already there, causing her mouth to water in response and her lower body to grow sore.

Elanna let out a sigh and sprawled out onto her bed, kicking off her boots and lowering her trousers, exposing her warm mound to the cold air that felt like a nipping tease, causing her to quiver. She wanted him, wanted to see his reaction, wanted at the very least to see if it was for her, and that thought guided her hand between her legs.

When Solas would share her bed or they would escape together under some tree out in the wild it was bliss, but no one knew her body the way she did and her diligent rubs and twists of her skin and knob did not cause her to last long. Her left leg trembled and shook as it always did when she grew close, her thighs tried to clench together, her fingers became soaked and her hips arched upward when she released.

Wiping the residue onto a nearby cloth Elanna sighed to herself to steady her breath, pulled back on her clothes, and steadied herself.

Solas had just returned from what he described as a fact finding mission, examining local flora which he would no doubt draw meticulously in his journal. Whatever he had studied would be consuming him wholly as he transcribed notes and wrote down his observations, sitting perched in his chair over a desk that faced the wall. Elanna knew precisely where to find him.

As she walked her hips swayed of their own accord and her feet carried careful steps one in front of the other with a feline grace. In her mind she knew she was projecting the image of a cat in heat and she wondered if the dwellers of the main hall could sense it on her. A glance at her surroundings told her that they were as busy gossiping as they always were, but the thrill of walking past them in a state that may as well be nude, intent on her mission, added to the thrill and made her yearn for him all the more.

The man was precisely where Elanna thought she would find him, nestled in his corner in the shadow of one of his great murals, the only sound in the circular room the scribbling of his quill on parchment. When Solas heard her steps on the stone floor he placed the quill down and sat straight up.

“It is good to see you, vhenan,” he said without ever turning around. Perhaps he anticipated her gesture, the way she bent down and wrapped her arms under his and nestled her chin against his shoulder. Perhaps he smelled her desire in the air. Or perhaps he was simply busy. Whatever was on his mind she intended to change it.

With her chin pressed against his shoulder she said, in as casual a voice as she could muster, “Will you come with me, Solas? I want to show you something.”

There was a moment of hesitation in him as his loyalty to his notes and his work seemed to capture him. It was only a fleeting thing. He laid his quill down on the table and leaned back into her, letting out a content sigh.

“I would be delighted,” he told her. When she backed away to give him space he slid out of his chair, following after her as she led him away. For the deed that was on her mind she wanted to be far away, where the moment could be theirs and theirs alone, as though this were a special moment not to be shared with Skyhold.

She told him only how she had missed him while he was away, earning that small, dimpled smile of his as he agreed, otherwise their journey beyond the gates and toward the icy lake was done in silence. 

Elanna found one of the old bare trees on the summit and pressed her back against it, leaning and wrapping her arms for support as she watched him. Solas was puzzled and glanced about as though he had expected something more.

“And what is this things you wanted to show me?”

So close to the moment Elanna felt her heart beginning to race. She had tasted his lips a thousand tmes and was familiar with his hot breath on her mouth, the feeling of him inside of her. They had been intimate lovers and yet now on this new moment she found herself hesitant and nervous, as though it were her first time all over again.

Elanna cleared her throat as she struggled for words. Perhaps there was no way to segue into the subject, she thought. She closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, exhaled, and let her first words come out as they may.

“Solas?” she started, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes, vhenan?” his voice was a soft, warming coo that chased away the chill of the mountains.

That almost seemed too romantic for what she intended to ask, causing her to giggle. Was her cowardice trying to buy time?

She steadied herself.

“Ahem,” she said with a clear of her throat again, standing on the edge of a cliff and preparing herself for the plummet. “Can uh, can I give you head?”

Solas did not immediately react. His face remained a perfect mask of focus that stared directly into her, boring into her and causing her to writhe against the trunk of the tree. She still felt the urge and desire, the phantom feeling at the roof of her mouth causing her to lick her lips, but the awkward silence and the way he stared at her as though he could not believe the words to come out of her mouth sapped the moisture from her lips and left her throat dry.

And yet it was at the same time exhilarating. When the words finally set in Solas shook his head and opened his mouth to speak, then was unsatisfied with that response and chose another.

“You, I’m sorry, you what?”

“I want…” she decided at last to keep it simple. She let out a long breath, steadied herself and said, “I want to give you a blowjob.”

“That’s not…” it was not a common thing to see but Solas was visibly at a loss for words. He furrowed his brow and looked her over for answers before giving his. “That’s not necessary for you to do, vhenan.”

“But I want to do it,” she insisted, finding herself unwilling to take no for an answer.

For a long moment he searched her up and down, remaining quiet.

“Are you sure?” he finally asked at length.

Elanna chewed on her lower lip and nodded. When he said nothing further she took it as the permission she sought and felt her heart beat so loudly in her chest that she thought it would fall into the butterflies that were swirling in her stomach.

She stepped toward him and dropped to her knees, creating a crunching snow as she fell into the pillowy snow. Elanna was eye level with her prize and took a long breath to steady herself, then reached up and touched him underneath his leather pants. She felt him like a small pouch and it was all the encouragement she needed, tugging at the straps and undoing the bindings so that she could slide the trousers down to his ankles.

When she saw his cock she realized just how little she had seen of it. She was aware of it, could tell it by feel and had mapped an image of it in her head by the way that it felt, but she had very rarely actually seen it. Looking at it now in its soft state it seemed to hang like a small roll of skin between his legs, hardly the mighty thing she had built in her mind.

Elanna was ready now. She leaned forward and kissed it on the tip, the way Dorian had explained all good moments like this must begin. It had a musky, but not unpleasant smell, an odor that was eternally him and what was hers. It inspired her to lick him and caress the tip of him with her mouth and in that moment it began to slowly rise and engorge, delighting her to be able to see this first hand.

As it grew her anticipation and her eagerness filled her body with a hungry warmth that caused her to want nothing more than to feel it in her mouth. She took it in. It tasted softer than she had expected, the simple taste of skin with a bulbous and tender texture. When Elanna ran her tongue across the body of him he let out a whimper that caused her to moan.

She pushed her head forward so that he rubbed up against the top of her mouth, filled her cheek. She tried to press further but her throat constricted and told her to stop. Elanna pulled his stiffness out of her mouth and took a moment to catch her breath, aware of every sense of pleasure that rocked up and down his body, delighting her in a new and unique way.

When air was once again in her lungs and her throat had loosened she went in again, tongue leading, caressing the extended knob at the front. Solas grunted and she knew that she could follow the trail of his sounds, it was all the guidance that she needed.

She pushed forward, then pulled back and he let out a long moan. With her mouth still wrapped around his cock she looked up at him with her eyes and saw that he had thrown his head back. He liked that. She pulled back, then pushed forward, in control of every sensation, every rock of his knees.

Then put his hands on the back of her head, an insistant, forceful push when she tried to get away. It thrilled her and she lost all sense of control, bobbbing her head and knowing when to lurch forward when she felt the frill at the end of his cock trace her lips. Instinct told her to suck and when she did he rocked and squeezed the back of her head tighter.

He was beginning to bob, the skin in her mouth was beginning to throb and she knew something was happening. She kept going, devouring him, until at last he went rigid and tried to moan, but they came out instead as tiny gasps as her mouth filled with his white release. It was warm and bitter, sour and sweet, tasting of him. Elanna held perfectly still so that he could continue to pulse inside of her, rubbing the line at the bottom of him with the tip of her tongue until his gushing was finished.

Elanna slowly drew back, sucking on the tip of him with her lips. He was shriveling fast in her mouth and that delighted her too, knowing and feeling and tasting every part of him. She swallowed him then returned to worshipping his cock with her tongue.

When there was nothing more to take from him Elanna looked up at him, cupping his slackening manhood in her hand and making eye contact with the now bewildered Solas.

“How was that?” she asked, chopping her lips to keep the taste of him fresh.

Solas was almost too breathless to answer. The hands on the back of her head were now patting her in a soft, delighted approval.

“That was amazing,” he told her, his breathlessness turning his words into a near whisper.

“Good,” Elanna told him, kissing the tip of him then rising to her full height and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Then we need to do that more often.”

Solas smiled and kissed her. “Is that so?”

Elanna sighed and rested her head on his shoulder, looking out across the summit toward the frozen lake, grinning at her own story to tell.


End file.
